


Like Oil and Vinegar - DamiJon Tumblr Prompts Series

by birdflashshipper (kateshines)



Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Damijon - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Jondami, M/M, Romance, Super Sons - Freeform, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:52:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateshines/pseuds/birdflashshipper
Summary: A series of DamiJon prompts taken and written on my Tumblr account, damian-jon-love.





	1. Nightmares at a Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Jon and Dami were having a sleepover, Damian ends up having a nightmare and Jon didn't know what to at first then tries to comfort him like his parents do when he has nightmares. Bonus if they wake up by Alfred seeing them cuddled and they both get flustered.
> 
> So, when I originally read this prompt it was at around 4 AM after a night of very little sleep, so I read it incorrectly and wrote it about Jon having a nightmare and Damian comforting Jon the way Talia used to when he was a child. Then I read the prompt correctly but liked what I had written so far, so I stuck with it.

It’s been a quiet night at the manor.

That night, Damian and Jon had a lengthy patrol together throughout Gotham. They stopped an after-hours bank robbery and three muggings, took out three entire gangs in in Crime Alley, and had a run-in with Poison Ivy around 3 AM. The boys didn’t get home until nearly sunrise.

Needless to say, they collapsed onto opposite sides of Damian’s king sized bed upon arriving at the manor and slept soundly through the night.

That is, until Jon wakes up with a scream.

Damian jolts awake, pulls a knife out from under his pillow and flips over to face his would-be attacker in one swift movement. When he sees it’s only Jon, he glowers and relaxes slightly. “What the _fuck_ , Jon?!”

Jon’s eyes are wide and his head is in his hands. His whole body heaves as his chest heaves. After a few moments of breathing through the silence, he mutters, “Sorry, Dami. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

The older boy sighs and slips the knife safely back under his pillow, then turns to face his counterpart once again. “What was it about?”

Black hair swishes over his forehead as Jon shakes his head. “It’s just…” He lets out a heavy exhale. “It’s stupid.”

“Of that, I’m certain. But tell me anyway so we can be done with it and get back to sleep.”

A small smirk lifts the corners of Jon’s mouth. Damian may have changed quite a bit since they first met, but parts of his brash personality will always remain. It’s almost… comforting. “It’s Manchester Black again. He’s… he’s still in my head.”

Damian frowns. It had been nearly two years since that incident, and he hadn’t spoken of it in months. He had hoped that Manchester’s grip on his partner had lessened, but apparently that isn’t the case. “What happened in your dream?”

When he finally speaks, his voice is so quiet that Damian can barely hear him. “I killed people.”

He feels a pang of half-guilt and half-disdain. Jon is so innocent; so completely the opposite of Damian. It both disgusts and shames him – disgust because of that little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot like Ras telling him that killing is the way of the world, and shame because of the other voice in his head that sounds like Bruce telling him that killing is wrong.

Jon would never know about the internal battle that he frequently causes within him. As much as Damian hates to admit it, Jon is a good influence on him. He balances him out, like yin and yang.

The guilt wins out in the end, and Damian scoots closer to Jon on the bed and pulls him into his arms, cradling his head on his shoulder.

“Uh… Damian? Not that I’m complaining, but… what are you doing?”

Stroking his hair gently, he answers, “This is what my mother used to do when I’d wake up with nightmares when I was a child. I just thought… I thought it would help.”

After a moment, Jon answers quietly “It does”, and snuggles a little closer.

 

When the sun has fully risen, Alfred pushes open Damian’s door and wheeled in his trusty breakfast cart to offer pancakes, bacon and eggs to the boys. He stops short when he sees their positions – wrapped up against each other on the bed.

Jon’s head rests on Damian’s chest, which rises and falls with each of Damian’s steady breaths. Damian’s right hand is loosely tangled in Jon’s hair, and his left hand is wrapped around Jon’s back. His head was tilted back onto the fluffy pillow and he had a slight smile on his sleeping face. It’s the most peaceful look that the butler had ever seen on the youngest Wayne.

A small smile crosses his features and he prepares to wheel the cart back out of the room and let them sleep, but Damian’s eyes flutter open.

He doesn’t move. He just stares at the butler for a moment, eyes bleary, before his face darkens into a tiny glare as if to say _I’ll kill you if you tell_.

Alfred just smiles and makes a zipping motion across his lips before wheeling the breakfast cart out of the room.


	2. New Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: a headcannon where the stains of Manchester Black remains in Jon and he battles his inner darkness, but every day its harder, so he turns to the only person he knows has battle inner demons for years: Damian.

“Is it always going to feel like this?”

Damian turns to his friend with a skeptical glance. “Care to elaborate on that query, Kent?”

Jon sits on his soft, worn cotton sheets with his head in his hands and speaks into his palms so quietly that Damian almost can’t hear him. “Wanting to kill people.”

Damian inhales sharply and clicks his tongue. “Manchester Black again.” The younger boy nods without looking up. It had been three weeks since that incident and Damian is the only one that knows that the darkness, as he is calling it, still lives inside of him. Pride and the desire for privacy had kept him from telling his father about it, but he had come to Damian because he knew he wouldn’t coddle him. He knew he would understand.

“I wanted to kill people that day, Damian; I had never felt like that before. I don’t want to feel like that anymore, not ever again,” he whispers through the tears forming in his eyes. “What do I do?”

“You should really talk to your father about this,” the older boy begins, “He-”

“Damian,” Jon mumbles, looking up at him.

Right. Now isn’t the time for deflection.

He takes a long breath. “You do the only thing you can do." He settles down onto the bed next to him. “You do what you believe is right.”

The young Kryptonian slumps against the other boy’s side. “And does it ever get better?”

Damian purses his lips. He knows that Jon is asking him because he has been where he is. And more importantly, he knows he won’t lie to him if the answer isn’t what he wants to hear. “Not right away,” he finally answers. “But over time, yes, it does.”

“I’m worried these thoughts are going to get worse. I’m worried these thoughts are going to become habits.”

“It’s never too late to create new habits.” He turns to him and looks him in the eye. “You can do this, Jon. I started out believing that killing was just a way of life, and now I know better. If I can get through that…” his voice trails off and he turns to look Jon in the eyes. “You’re good, Jon. You’re… pure. Just the fact that it bothers you is an indication that you’re better than I used to be. People who are truly heartless harbor no guilt. You’re different, you’re… _worthy_.”

“You are too,” Jon answers without hesitation. “There are different kinds of good. You rose above the evil you grew up in. That makes you pretty worthy, too.” The boys fall into semi-comfortable silence for a few minutes before Jon speaks again. “Thanks,” Jon murmurs. “For helping me.”

“You’re my partner,” Damian answers briskly. “If you are compromised, it can compromise my safety as well. It’s my duty to help.”

A small grin makes its way onto Jon’s face. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend we’re not friends. Pretend you don’t like me.”

He’s just teasing the older boy, but Damian flushes all the same. Jon honestly expects him to ignore it completely, but he surprisingly doesn’t. “I know. It’s… just a habit.”

Jon buries his face into Damian’s shoulder and smiles into his collarbone. “It’s never too late to create new habits,” Jon quotes back to him.

Damian rolls his eyes, but he smiles. “I suppose so. Now come on, Kent; it’s time for patrol.”

Smiling, Jon follows his friend as he strides across the room and opens the window, crawling out of it with ease. “Coming,” he calls behind him.

Perhaps everything would be okay after all.


End file.
